


Pancakes

by AdotHann



Series: Sanders Shorts [1]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Youtube RPF
Genre: Arguments, Baking, Family Relationships - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Platonic Relationships, actually no lets not involve jesus he doesnt need to see this, aka what the fuck am i writing about, bet it was roman, but like, disasterous baking, facets of your personality, i hope you're ashamed of yourself, jesus fucking christ how do you tag for this fandom, or with aspects of yourself, that was a bad idea roman, what a fucking ass hat, whatever, who inspired them to cook, who the fuck let these guys in the kitchen, with yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 08:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11619657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdotHann/pseuds/AdotHann
Summary: That was how Thomas found them; Logan looking like a drowned rat and sending Patton, who was still clutching the empty bucket and doing his best impression of a kicked puppy, the most intense death glare Thomas had ever seen; Roman in his soot-blackened silk shirt, looking almost as furious as Logan; Virgil perched on the kitchen surface with his eyeshadow looking as if it had caught most of the water that had missed Logan; and the remains of the last pancake on the stove, still smouldering gently.-(a.k.a the Sides try to make pancakes. )





	Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Imaginary Control](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553999) by [ReaperStygian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaperStygian/pseuds/ReaperStygian). 



> I watch Sanders Sides one fucking time and look what it did. I cant believe i’ve fallen back into this youtuber fanfiction hell hole. I spent 5 years trying to get over my SHAME and now I’m back and i wanna DIE.

“Okay, now we need to cook the other side.” Said Patton, who was holding the recipe book and feeling wonderfully important. “You need to flip it.”

“Does that really sound like a good idea?” Virgil asked from where he was unhelpfully perched on the kitchen counter; not close enough for them to ask him to move, but not far enough to be out of their way. “What if he drops the pancake? What if he drops it into the fire?”

“That’s alright,” Logan butted in, “He can just turn it over with a spatula.”

“But then he’d have to get really close to the fire. It would be awful if Princey burnt his perfect skin.”

The other Sides glared at him. Virgil shrugged. “Better make up your mind soon though, otherwise the pancake will burn.”

“Roman will be just fine,” Patton said reassuringly, “He can handle turning over a pancake.”

“Can he?” Virgil asked.

Roman, who had been the only one who was willing to touch the stove (or to ‘defeat the fire breathing monster,’ as he had put it,) glared at him and attempted to flip the pancake and missed horribly. It landed on the kitchen floor with a dull _splat_ and lay there miserably.

“Told you.” Virgil said, almost sounding amiable. Roman glared even harder.

“Comw on kiddos, no use crying over spilled pancakes,” Patton said, “We just need to-“ he consulted the book, “-Oil the pan and start again!”

“Why is Patton in charge?” Virgil asked.

Logan, who up until this point had been meticulously measuring out flour for the next batch, turned on him. “That’s a very good question. Like us, Patton is simply a facet of Thomas’ personality. He doesn’t know any more about cooking than the rest of us do!”

“I’m the dad side!” Patton insisted, “Adultery comes naturally to me!”

Logan glared at him. “That’s _still_ not that word means!”

“We shouldn’t have tried cooking,” Virgil said darkly, “This was a bad idea. Something’s going to go wrong.”

“Something’s already gone wrong!” Logan exclaimed, gesturing to the pancake that was still lying miserably on the floor.

“Its okay! We have more batter,” Patton said, “We can try again.”

“Something _else_ is going to go wrong.” Virgil insisted.

“But what though?” Roman demanded.

_“Something!”_

Their bickering built up and up and up until it finally reached a crescendo, and Roman’s voice cut through the chaos. He said, with all the calm and stateliness that only royalty could have mustered in this situation, “I don’t think the pancakes are supposed to look like that.”

The arguing cut out instantly, like the chord of your ear buds being ripped out of your phone. The Sides stared at the pancake pan sitting on the dusty stove; at the foot tall flames rising out of it and the clouds thick, black smoke that they were producing.

“Told you.” Virgil said, smugness barely overlaying the panic in his voice.

Logan got about half way through explaining proper procedure for putting out a gas fire before Patton panicked and threw a bucket of water over both him and the stove. Someone stifled a laugh. Breathing in deep, ragged, and supposedly calming breaths, Logan wiped the water from his glasses.

And that was how Thomas found them; Logan looking like a drowned rat and sending Patton, who was still clutching the empty bucket and doing his best impression of a kicked puppy, the most intense death glare Thomas had ever seen; Roman in his soot-blackened silk shirt, looking almost as furious as Logan; Virgil perched on the kitchen surface with his eyeshadow looking as if it had caught most of the water that had missed Logan; and the remains of the last pancake on the stove, still smouldering gently.

Walking into weird situations like this was becoming an increasingly common event in the Sanders household. Thomas vividly recalled the occasion when he’d turned on the light in the kitchen at 4am to find Roman and Virgil sitting cross-legged on the floor and eating ice cream straight out of the tub in silence, in the darkness. Virgil had stared him dead in the eye, reached for the light switch and turned it off. They hadn’t spoken about it since. That wasn’t even touching on the time that Thomas had walked in on the aftermath of Patton’s unsuccessful (thanks to Logan,) attempt to adopt an entire animal shelter, or the times that he’d found all four of them sleeping in a massive puppy pile on the sofa (and he might have joined them,) or that one _really_ scary day when he’d actually witnessed Patton convince his ‘Strange Dark Son’ to play catch with him. There had been a lot of shattered windows by the end of that game.

If Thomas hadn’t known better, he’d have said that they were purposely trying to weird him out.

“Your response to several personified facets of your personality showing up at your house was to make a Youtube series about it,” Logan had pointed out, “I sincerely doubt that we can do anything to top that.”

He was right, of course. Thomas couldn’t imagine anything weirder happening to him, or finding a weirder way to deal with it but somehow, through the weirdness, he’d seen the opportunity to learn more about himself, and maybe help some of his audience learn a little about themselves too, and that was exactly what he was trying to do.

 It would be fine as long as none of them were ever in the same shot; he could pass it off as him multi-rolling five different characters, and half the time they were so uncooperative that it really _was_ just him multi-rolling several different parts. Or at least, Thomas told himself that, and some days he almost believed it.

Thomas stared at the Sides, who looked bedraggled and angry and miserable and _downright hilarious_ , and began he began to laugh.  It was a full, warm, real laugh – the kind of laugh that, between rehearsals and script-editing and travel and all the craziness in his life (and dealing with, well, _himself_ ,) he hadn’t had a lot of time for recently. It wasn’t long before Roman’s slightly larger-than-life but nonetheless real laugh joined his, followed by a snort from Logan and Patton’s relieved chuckle. Even Virgil cracked a smile – a real, warm smile, not the condescending smirk he usually wore.

Thomas suddenly felt as if everything was going to be fine. There was something about this bizarrely normal and hilarious situation that set him at ease; it felt very real and very grounding, and Thomas finally felt that he had the sure footing that he needed to deal with _this_ on top of everything else that was going on in his life. Sure footing, right here on the kitchen floor, amongst the water and soot and burnt pancakes chaos and familiarity and laughter.

They were going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. That was something. This was supposed to be a light hearted, humorous way for me to get rid of my Sanders Sides fic ideas and hasn't really worked out too well, least of all because the ending got weirdly emotional. I sort of want to write the fics for those other weird situations I mentioned, particularly Patton adopting a WHOLE ANIMAL SHELTER.  
> What else? I'd like to blame Patton and Roman for this bullshit. Oh! I'd also like to thank Reaper8439979 for inspiring this fic - as cranky as my authors notes probably sound, I really did enjoy writing this so thank you! And if y'all read this piece of crap I made then you should go check out their ongoing work, Imaginary Control, because its better and its probably going to be longer and better at filling that Sanders-Sides-FanFiction shaped hole in your soul.  
> Please leave comments. They're the sustenance that I live on.


End file.
